Poem 4–Winter’s Delaying Tactics

Old Man Winter doesn’t know when to leave;

His long nails are caught  in Spring’s lacy sleeve.

Despite her March winds, his grip won’t let  go,

His delaying tactics make her progress too slow.

The flowers are blooming, new green on the trees

But the temperatures still fall with each Wintry sneeze.

Temps rise each week  to a new average high.

But at least once a week, we  shiver and sigh

Let Go, Old Man Winter!  Please just say Good Bye!



Melancholy Snow

It was snowing this morning while I was riding my bicycle.  It was a melancholy snow, Winter’s last gasp at withholding Spring. Like a sleepy baby that was too tired to wail, but not too tired weep, the flakes slowly drifted down and dissolved into tears as soon as they landed. Despite a 34 degree temperature, even the cold could not summon enough energy to bite, lacking the teeth of a strong wind.

Spring and Winter had been playing a tug of war since February.  Our 60 something average temperatures show up about once a week. (If Spring were to precede Winter, I would call it Sprinter, but it’s more like Plodder.)  This back and forth time is where Winter is is trying to Wring every last day and night it can before it will finally cede to Spring.

snow-last of winter

Of course, I was riding a stationary bike inside, listening to music.  I could see the snow falling and melting, but it was not my face it was melting on.  When I went out to yoga later in the morning, it was still snowing, and that was when I knew it really was not that cold out and nothing was freezing.

bike by window.jpg